Chapter One: July 17th, 1011 AD -- Icebreaker.
For every dark night, there’s a bright day after that. It’s a phrase I’ve heard coined countless times. Throughout the ages, it’s remained a constant here, like the rotations of the sun and moon, locked in their intricate and timeless waltz across the heavens. I’ve seen many a turning of the moon. I can’t count how often I’ve sat alone, the glow of the waning sun tenderly glowing through a gateway of clouds; shimmering orange-pink sky meeting my gaze with an inviting, warming smile and kissing tear-stained cheeks.
The repetition is timeless.
Was timeless.
If you've found this diary, then hopefully it'll have gone as I wanted. Maybe this will add some perception to the fight. This is my side of the story.
The atrocities both sides have committed in the pursuit of their own goals are of an appreciable countenance. The majority of my crimes are inexcusable. Theirs? Well, they weren’t going to get punished. It’s my word against theirs. One versus a country. And to think it all started with a mistake blown way out of proportion…
I can’t win this fight.
I suppose the first and last step is to learn to forgive. To forgive them… And to forgive myself.
Dei gratia. Dei iudicium. God willing, it’ll happen. Forgive me Lord, for I have sinned.
My name is Aaron Carreau. This is my confession.
July 17th, 1011 AD -- Present Day
I felt it.
Regardless of the fact I was alone, stranded God-only-knows how far under the ground above, I sensed my captors' shield shatter. Magic dissipated into the air; millions of minute stars blinking out of existence one by one. Twinkling, the fragmented energy floated to the floor, a dying feather on the whispering winds. I watched them fall with confusion. I frowned. Then, I cursed.
The granite beneath me exploded with a thunderclap of godlike proportions, throwing me backwards. I slammed roughly against the ground, momentum carrying me a few more feet, before I came to a stop. Groaning, I slumped backwards. After my ears had stopped that forsaken ringing, and I could see clearly again, I raised a hand weakly to my face. My vision wavered for but a second; ichor staining the hand crimson.
Sniffing tentatively at the air in my chamber, just as a single deer would inspect a watering hole before it drank, I picked up the scent of ozone. Forked fissures fractured the ceiling. Echoing clashes of thunder rolled over my eardrums; a haphazard mish-mash of discordancy in the heavens. Sudden arctic winds tore at my exposed hair and face, screeching at the top of their lungs, screaming, biting at my skin.
Icy droplets of razor-snow cascaded from between cracks. Cold nipped at my bones.
Freedom kissed my cheek.
But yet, I stood still, gazing up at the torn ceiling, some 10 feet above, and beyond. The cold-hearted cascade splashed across my upturned face. Blood-water dripped from the ends of rippling ruby rivers; from my nose, my ears. The salty tang of copper tainted my tongue. I had bitten the inside of my cheek, no doubt. A quick inspection with my tongue proved painful and true.
Bewildered by the sudden opportunity, I numbly squinted past the rain.
A spark of comprehension ignited deep within in my chest, and I rose to my feet.
Shuddering, I cast my eyes over myself. I was clad in the attire I had been left in- suited for mild temperatures and typical weather. A weatherworn stone-grey cotton shirt, worn under a high-collar navy jacket, battered but comfortable. Both articles bore the brunt of conflict; small tears and rips, areas where the material had become ragged. Over that, I was wearing an alabaster hooded jacket, equally battle-scarred but just as cosy as the day it had been bought. Each garment was impossibly creased and rumpled. Dark cargo trousers hung off my hips, the pockets thin, empty. An equally dark and hoary belt looped around my waist, scratched and in places dog-eared. I wore simple boots.
Part of me wanted to get angry at the state of my clothes. But I had other, pressing matters to deal with.
Gazing up, feeling the rain splatter against hunched shoulders, I surveyed my escape. Cruor wept into the white fabric of my hoodie from my unattended nose. Groaning, I took it all in.
Beyond the damaged ceiling, past the narrow beams of light that trickled like honey and the filtered monsoon that sated an eternal thirst, the razored walls rose steep and tall, stretching further out of reach the longer the stared, rumbling all the while. What I could see of the walls thereof had been hacked, crushed and smashed by a deity’s gargantuan pickaxe, before being kicked for good measure. Raindrops mashed themselves against the keen edges, sending the droplets into a misty demise.
I hissed at the sight. The sound reverberated around the large-ish cavern eerily, running over the crudely carved walls and through rocky nooks and shrouded crannies like the waters above, seeping through split stone. Light rubble lay strewed across the floor; cracks running in all directions outwards from the cleaved ceiling, creating an intricate paradigm of ridges. Dust and ash blanketed the edges of the subterranean dungeon; blasted roughly against the walls. Inky shadows clung as spider’s webs would along the farthest reaches of the grotto, veiling me in a heart of darkness.
The entire cavern groaned in protest, a bone-chilling screech piercing the pitter-patter of the raindrops. The rocks above scraped cruelly against one another, straining to break free.
Grinding my teeth, I slunk backwards, all the while keeping my glare at the crumbling holes even.
Once I was out of possible range, I focused my groggy mind as best as I could, clenching my fingers into a loose fist. A spark of energy fizzed into life in my palm, arcing between fingers, over and under, sizzling all the while. It’s been a while. I almost forgot what it looked like. It gave off a soft light, glowing like spent embers. Then, as quickly as it stirred, it fizzled out of existence.
I whimpered as a lethargic burning enveloped my hand. “Fuck!” Clenching my fingers tight, I thrust the smouldering appendage into my pocket with the finesse of a floundering seal.
It had been a while; my mana font had yet to fill again after years of being locked away, and there certainly wasn’t any latent residue in the air to use. Now that I thought about it, the dull ache pulsing behind my eyes should have alerted me. A muffled growl wormed its way through gnashing jaws. Above me, almost mockingly, the ceiling echoed my rumble. I hadn’t much time left, of that I was doubtless, before they realized.
“F-fuck…” I whispered, the doubtless forthcoming of agony cutting deeply into my resolve. Screwing up my face, I hesitated but for a moment, before tugging harshly at my sleeves, rolling them up past my elbows. The fabric felt grimy. Then I threw up my hood, taking comfort in the snuggly fabric, pulling it as far over my head as possible. The familiar sensation of anonymity lulled over my senses. The inner hood, though warm to the touch, had irregular wet patches running its length, but I ignored them.
I was going to get wet, anyway.
I raised my hand hesitantly towards the cracks, controlling my breathing as best as I could. I had to be extremely careful here, lest I do lasting damage to myself. Magic was not just a petty tool to be wielded- it had a mind of its own, a will to exert. Occasional experimentation before my imprisonment proved it to be sentient, to a degree. The mana backlash alone could kill me if manipulated in a way it didn’t like.
Crackling, it flared dangerously as I called upon it, my split lips pulled back in a horrifying grimace. Fear wormed its way into my brain. Goosebumps down my neck. The rolling waves felt like they were freezing my skin and blood, sending tremors of distress down my spine.
I took a shuddering breath. Then, I willed it outwards with a cry.
I felt something tear within me, and the cry evolved viciously into a bark of pain.
A bolt shot faster than my eyes could follow. An ear-piercing shriek ripped forth from the earth and the stone tore itself asunder, crashing to the ground even as I darted backwards. Choking clouds of obliterated dust billowed away, blinding me. I stumbled backwards. I’m fairly certain that if they were watching, they might have seen a wolf-like grin appear as I raised my forearm before my face, shielding it.
I waited a few moments, listening to the crumbling granite and the tinkering of the rain. It created an odd mishmash of percussion. The sound reverberated dully in the cave.
Blinking away collated dust, I felt the heavens’ tears rolling down my upturned face.
Slowly, I ran my tongue over aged lips, lingering for a moment over the furrow running from chin to cheekbone. A churning displeasure knotted itself within my stomach. The passage above stretched upwards almost indefinitely, but I knew it was not the case. No, that wasn’t the problem.
I staggered towards the altar-like half-pillar of blighted rubble, and set a foot upon it. The six foot stack wobbled slightly; it would be a matter of balance. Delicately, I climbed it with light feet; slipping on the slick surfaces every so often. It took me a few minutes of strenuous patience.
Upon reaching the top, I raised an arm, stretching out towards the lip of the opening. It was just out of reach.
I crouched, turning my palms towards my face briefly. The ridges that now lined the foot of the cave opening were jagged; razor-sharp fragments jutted out dangerously. Rainwater dribbled over the edges. I could see the sun in the sky, and the shattered, serrated tunnel glinted in it maliciously.
Ah shit. Let there be blood.
With a wordless groan, I tensed. I breathed out. I exploded into a leap.
I caught the lip with both hands, grimacing as shreds of pebbles dug into my bare hands. It wasn’t painful; just uncomfortable. My body still hung into the prison, swaying slightly with the effort. I lifted an arm, and hoisted myself up fully, digging my fingers into dents. Then repeated. Breathe, repeat. Breathe, repeat.
With every hoist, the distance physically decreased. Mentally- it was endless. Soon, I had no idea how long I had been climbing for. Minutes? Hours? Days? My atrophied muscles ached. The rain fought against my struggle with unrelenting force.
Then, fingers closed around shards, and my palms were sliced like a knife through butter. Ruby ichor oozed from the cuts. I exhaled sharply, slamming my feet into handholds. Pressing my body against the wall, I took a few moments to recollect my senses. I glanced down, feeling my stomach leap into my mouth. I was easily 300 feet up. Just enough time to pray if I fell.
“I can do this,” I assured myself with a whisper. “I need to get out. I need to do this. Can’t let them win.” Clenching my jaw, I whipped my head skywards, and leapt again. With a tight twist, I grasped the wall. Or at least, I tried to. My eyes shot open as it crumbled beneath my hands, and I was sent plummeting back down. With a feral scream, I latched my fingers against the wall, scrabbling for a hold despite bloody lubrication. My legs pumped in the air, kicking myself towards a sliver of a handhold. My breath hitched in my throat. I caught it, barely; my raw hands sliced into the grip. My foot smashed mercilessly into the rock face, sending a flood of numbness upwards.
Afraid to look down, I could do naught but watch my blood trickle down the rock face, mixing with the rain. Swallowing, I looked up again.
The mouth was close, tantalizingly so. I wasn’t far. One final effort was all it needed.
I climbed anew. By now, my arms burned in protest, weeping crimson tears that swirled in an intricate, shuddering dance with combined sweat and raindrops, trickling down my wrists. My right leg hung uselessly underneath me- it was as if it was not responding to bodily commands. It was an uphill battle against a titan. Hard as fuck and just as unforgiving. But I powered on. I almost slipped a few more times, each more frantic and desperate than the last.
Tentatively, I reached up, pressing down as hard as I could on the nearest ledge to make sure it would support my weight. It gave no quarter against me. Hauling myself up, I felt my shoulders begin to ache. My hands, coated in a thick layer of my bodily fluids, curled themselves up in torment. Slowly repositioning myself to face the other side, I licked my lips, pressing my heels back against the wall in an effort to maintain balance. I put most of my weight on my left side, swaying slightly, before crouching ever so slightly.
I leapt.
Then, I was out, dragging myself over the mouth and onto swishing grass.
Rolling over, I blinked several times. On the first, the rain wavered, and the sky wobbled in place. On the second, the rain flickered in and out of existence like a dying candle, and the sky became blurred.
On the third, it stabilised.
I bore it no more. I let loose my exhilaration with a weary whoop. My eyes lit up in glee as I laughed and I spluttered and choked on my happiness. Soon after, I was thrashing, cursing the sun for blinding me. The rain seemed to ebb away, leaving behind a light drizzle.
Breathing heavily, I blinked up at the sky and my surroundings, taking in the sheer size with difficulty.
The ancient fog had rolled inland long since I’d seen it last, steadily sweeping everything around the mesa into a swelling sea of obscurity. Darkened clouds were scattered around the washed-out sky. Occasionally, a sliver of soft-gold sunbeam permeated the mist, making the accumulated moisture sparkle like billions of tiny crystals in a particular spot; never once remaining in the same place. It was as if a shimmering curtain of sunlight was being shifted by a graceful breeze. The great fingers of oak and elm branches reached out into the fog; the star-spun blanket swirling around the limbs elegantly. The leaves of such trees were oddly tranquil, resting carelessly in the loving embrace of the day.
I hurt. Searing pain convulsed and screeched like a cornered animal inside my head. Burning light penetrated through my entire being, yet the monotony of it astounded me. It flowed with a heaviness unbecoming of light.
As mental clarity re-established itself, I noticed things. The faint, gentle gushing of flowing water. The whistling of warm breezes as they brushed thin, blade-like leaves of grass aside and the velvety fervency it brought to my exposed skin. The kiss of thin, flowing mist on my cheek.
Drawing in grating, shallow breaths of crisp mountainside air, of honeysuckle and lavender, I felt twinges of agony; lukewarm cruor inched along the shallow scar I had across my top lip. I squirmed in displeasure and a sudden, intense fatigue. An age passed before I dared to move. Numbness slinked away from my toes and fingers as I poked my dusty tongue out of coppery depths, tentatively dragging it along cracked and bloody lips.
I cracked open my eyes again. Shortly thereafter I did so, a pained, contorted grimace pulled up the corners of my mouth. Once it passed, I cast my eyes over the ancient clearing, dead in the centre of an ocean of canopy.
Sun-thawed snow-caps had created a gurgling brook that cascaded off the craggy facets; worn into ancient rock by untold millennia of unrivalled solitude and preserved serenity. Verdant grass and wildflowers swayed softly. A single blooming tree stood alone; the cherry-blossom gently spiralling in a teeming circle. The fallen blooms wreathed around a crystal-clear pond, where some landed in a soft ripple across the tranquil waters.
The sky above me was more mottled than I had ever seen it. Despite this, the mesa was pleasantly warm; strangely so, in fact. Sensation inched along my limbs at the fleeting heat, and I tentatively brought a somewhat charred hand to my face, dumbly wiping away the blood before it could dry. My fingers came away wet, stained crimson. There were whole chunks of flesh missing from my hand; the skin stripped down to bone on the tips of my fingers.
I numbly dropped my hand back to my side. My thoughts raced madly, until I made the decision to raise my leaden head. Then white-hot agony exploded down my right thigh; charring already shot nerves, racing down my quadriceps, seemingly knotting, contorting in my stomach, until the surging tsunami crashed, overwhelming, drowning me until I roared at it and raggedy breaths caught in my throat.
I screamed until I couldn’t any more, and then stared in crushing horror.
My right leg was slightly bent, but the knee had been brutally ripped apart. The skin was shredded by exposed bone, rivulets of crimson rolling down shattered ivory, the white a horrifying contrast to the tanned skin underneath my mutilated and blood-soaked cargos. The flesh underneath was marbled, reminding me somewhat of the leg joints I used to see on offer at a butchers. Frayed tendons coursed with pain, and I could do nothing but watch in grim curiosity as the muscles twitched violently. At least, that was until the pain hit me.
I was bowled over by a tainted wave of stomach-turning nausea. My head lolled backwards as bile convulsed in my throat, my body threatening to gag in trepidacious disbelief, in something bulging at the seams with dark dread and malicious intent; my knee was ruptured, mauled, obliterated. It looked as if a child ridden with untamed greed had ripped voraciously into wrapping paper, working nimble fingers into any pockets that could give under its unrelenting assault, and tore it asunder if only to check what was underneath, only to be unpleased with the results, leaving the material hanging torn.
After taking a few forced breaths, I swallowed the bitterness on my tongue with a groan.
Coherency soon accompanied the rusted gears clunking and grinding in my brain. Every little twitch of my lower body sent searing fire scattering across my aching body, driving away any chance of fading out. Panting, I forced myself backwards with my good foot, keeping my leg as untouched as possible as I dragged myself backwards. My toes tore into the earthy topsoil, pressing it into the gaps. It felt cool, and the sensation calmed me. Soon, my back pressed against something, and I fell slack against it.
I felt icy sweat beading on my forehead. Wiping it away with a moan, I pinched the bridge of my nose in thought.
I can’t heal this yet… How- How am I supposed to do anything? I gave a small moan, thumping a fist heavily into the sod, before hissing at my mistake.
“God-damn you Celestia! Even now you spite me!”
I sighed. I was going to be here a while. The sky gave a thundering cackle, and the heavens threatened to open again. I sent a pleading look skywards in the hopes that whatever powers-that-be existed here were on my side.
Maybe they were.
After a few moments, the drizzle ceased. I was happy for that; I needed time to let the ambient magic run its course, so that I could light a fire. The sun was beginning to dip down below the crags of Lonely Peak, far to the west. I hadn’t much time.
“Okaaay. Right. Need to make a fire. Can’t move. Need magic. Recharging. Bollocks.” I mumbled to myself, idly looking around the area. I had everything I needed- for now. It’d take a day, maybe a day and a half, for the ideal amount of mana to refill. More, if I wanted to clean my clothes. I also needed some manner of food. Magic couldn’t sustain me if there wasn’t any to use.
My eyes wandered to the tree. Knowing my luck, it was either fruitless, or its fruits were poisonous. Probably the latter.
Fucking ponyland.
I was gonna have to risk an infection. I had no way to disinfect or even bandage my knee. I was too exhausted to even attempt to remove my soggy clothes. The adrenaline had worn off long ago.
I settled with humming a song to myself. One of my favourites actually. I laid my hands across my lap, musing on whether or not it was worth me dredging up my broken Equestrian. They had managed to teach me that. After a while. Yeah, I’d probably need it- despite them having that translation spell. They were difficult like that.
I tilted my head back, closing my eyes. The entire ambience of the clearing was relaxing, despite the throbbing of my leg. Gradually, I became lost in the sky, racking my brains back and forth for a place to begin.
November 27th, 1004 AD
To say the last few hours have been lively would be an understatement. An understatement worthy of being shot. Repeatedly.
I mean, after the vortex of lights, the stomach-twisting sensation of being pulped, wrung out and hung to dry in an infinite void, and then seemingly witnessing the birth of the stars themselves, describing what happened was, to me, worth more than thinking it was out of the ordinary.
And then I realised the stars were nothing more than very bright lights. Blinking past the spots, I gave out a groan of displeasure and clamped my eyes shut, squirming away from the source as best I could. The pounding between my ears didn’t help the situation either. Curling up, I went to grasp my duvet with my free hand; whisking it over my- what in the name of Hell is that?
That was not my duvet. My sleep-deprived mind was able to recognise that much.
With a flourish of my arm I flipped myself over, casting my weary gaze upon what I had touched. My shirt. Oh, yeah… I was going into town. Wait, what? Did I pass out or something? I gave my hand an experimental flick and stretched my fingers. It felt fine, but mid-rotation I looked beyond the edges of my fingertips.
That was not the bus floor. It was stone; alabaster, seemingly flawless. Marble? It definitely wasn’t linoleum. So, I wasn’t in the hospital. Then again, why would I be on… the… floor…?
I was drawn from my musing by a harsh clack, some distance away. It was then that my ears decided to fully function, and I was aware of the rabble of hurriedly hushed voices. I couldn’t distinguish any words, though. It was rather unsettling, at any rate.
A woman’s voice broke clear of the masses, calling out something in a language that I didn’t recognise. Oh bollocks. The vile seductress that is fear placed a gentle hand on my heart as I swivelled my head, slowly, to face the owner.
Something hit me in the side. I don’t even know what. It was as if the air itself had hit me; like a strong gale knocked me off my feet. The flowing of the tide, without the water. And most definitely without the ebbing. Whatever it was, it knocked me clean off my arse. I was flung backwards, sliding across the floor while a myriad of gasps rung out.
I grunted in surprise. The ceiling was extremely high. Where the hell am I?!
The voice cut through the silence. Immediately, the clamour ended as quickly as it began. It did nothing to help my voices. I felt my breath hitch in my throat, choking me as my chest heaved, faster and faster. Panic. That sensation coiled itself around my arms as I struggled, senselessly pulling away as it hauled me upwards. Fear. Fear beyond that which I have ever felt. My feet scrabbled against the floor, flailing uselessly.
Adrenaline rush. Power. I forced my eyes open, my gaze darting around the room.
What.
The.
Fuck.
Horses. Horses everywhere. Horses of many colours that they shouldn’t be. Wings. Horns. Clothes. For the love of God, some were even wearing jewellery! Nope. There aren’t enough nopes in the world to describe this. I am. Not. Doing this.
“THE HELL DID YOU DRUG ME WITH, YOU SICK FUCKS!?” I screamed, frantically straining against invisible bonds. I bucked and I twisted. I fought and I slashed. I screamed and I hollered until my voice was hoarse, and my throat was raw with the effort of breathing. Must. Break. FREE!
If there was any nagging qualms in my mind about needing sleep, it was dashed to pieces. I whipped my head around at each of them, snarling. Before, they were just frightened. Now, they were god-damn afraid. One pushed forwards of the group, brandishing a- is that a fucking spear?! My eyes widened considerably more than what they should have. Rearing away, past the roaring of blood in my ears, I could hear that voice again, raised high above their screams.
My arms were tugged backwards, and I was manhandled to my knees despite my thrashing. That force was behind the pushing, and though I could feel it pulling back, it left a promise of pain as it left my body with the faintest of twinges. My arms dropped to my sides, numb. I glared around with as much hate as I could muster, knowing I had been beaten. Whoever these fucked-up bastards were… god damn.
There was a muffled whoomph from the direction of the voice, and I craned my neck to see it. The horse with a spear held between his fetlock and hoof had lowered it, bowing his head towards this horse. It was white, and had both a horn and wings, as it was gliding towards me gently. I couldn’t help but bark a weak laugh at the sight. It had pastel hair, flowing in a non-existent breeze. The horse also wore some weird neck-brace, which was made of… gold? Whoa. My mind can make up some crazy stuff.
It landed a few paces away with a clink, its hooves set in gold horseshoes of some kind. The face of this horse, like the others, was oddly human. It wore what could only be a frown; the larger-than-life violet eyes suggesting wisdom beyond her age. It made another sound, more akin to a whinny. I assume this was the female that had spoken earlier.
I gave no response, exhaling raggedly as I attempted to look her dead in the eye. Adrenaline was still pumping through my body.
This was one hell of a drug.
Just what the hell is going on? Did I get kidnapped or something? A practical joke gone sideways? It gave me a look of pity, before turning away. As it turned, I couldn’t help but notice the sun design on her thighs. As it walked away, I noticed it give a nod to a unicorn. It was nowhere near as tall as the white one- subspecies perhaps? -and gave me a frightened look.
God my imagination was wild.
I raised myself off of my knees, encountering no resistance. Huh. Were they allowing me up?
“Uh… Hello?” I managed to force between fluttering lips. My eyes involuntarily darted across the room when none gave a response.
Why the hell did I expect one? I let out a sigh, slowly moving backwards.
Until my heel smacked against something.
I whirled around, throwing a fist as I spun. Crack! Howling, I dropped to a knee, clutching my wrist to my chest. What the fuck? An invisible wall? Hardened glass, I guess. Oh god. Oh no. Please. Anything but this. Butterflies had free reign in my stomach as it churned. Airlessness. Rising horror.
“LET. ME. OUT!” I shrieked, jumping to my feet, the pain forgotten. I rushed forwards blindly, only to find another wall in my way. Fuck that. I started to pound on it with the strength I could muster. Again and again. Hollow thunks reverberated across the hall with each desperate blow. The horses behind it- no. The ponies behind it backed up, casting wary looks at me.
“FUCK YOU! LET ME OUT! NOW!” The walls were closing in now. I hadn’t made as much as a dent. A final spark of determination swayed my hand, and I swung around, lashing at the wall next to it. Nothing. With a roar, I put my shoulder to it, ramming the barrier as hard as I could. I grimaced in pain as I jarred my wrist, but tried again. I am not staying here. Mind-wrought ponies or not. Fuck this drug. Fuck these people. Fuck my mind. I am getting OUT.
The white one, the alpha, spun around with a human-like expression. Shock, I think. Maybe panic. It shouted something inaudible past the roaring in my mind. Then, the walls vanished. I stumbled blindly for a few moments, breathing heavily.
I had just about enough time to snarl at them before I was thrown across the room. I swear I heard ribs crack. The air left my lungs as the blow crushed my abdomen. Tears pooled at the corners of my eyes while my arms flailed about uselessly.
I think I got an airtime of a few seconds- enough time to give an airless screech. Then, I hit the wall.
Blackness. Silence. Emptiness.
